


eyes touch you more (than hands ever could)

by fxbricxtedrexlity



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, bcoz they fight here lmao, but it's all fluff and sin after dw, is it rlly moonsun if they dont fight during serious talks?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fxbricxtedrexlity/pseuds/fxbricxtedrexlity
Summary: ::She can’t help but marvel at how good they look together and fuck, was that always how Byul looked at her? She thumbs through the pictures, seeing the same soft smile on Byulyi from years ago to a time right before their fight.She looks for hers, too, and woah. That’s how she looks at Byulyi?It feels like a sunrise in her chest, bright and inevitable, feeling like she finally touched the ground, is finally stable.::moonsun. yong doesn’t think that byul is clingy until her sister pointed it out. she hadn’t anticipated the feelings that come with that realization. aka “i have feeling for my “straight”best friend” byul + “holy shit i like her too” yong + feelings = a fight and make up sex
Relationships: Kim Yongsun | Solar/Moon Byulyi | Moonbyul
Comments: 5
Kudos: 234





	eyes touch you more (than hands ever could)

**Author's Note:**

>   
> a tad bit of warning before you proceed :)  
> this fic contains explicit sexual content  
> if some of the warnings put you off, please press the back button now :)  
> relationship between mamamoo's moonbyul and solar  
> i respect each and every one of the characters and real people i used in this fic
> 
> i guess that’s all, please enjoy :)  
> 

_eyes touch you more (than hands ever could)_

**::**

this story is for **stellairemxm**

**::**

_moonsun. yong doesn’t think that byul is clingy until her sister pointed it out. she hadn’t anticipated the feelings that come with that realization. aka “i have feeling for my “straight”best friend” byul + “holy shit i like her too” yong + feelings = a fight and make up sex_

**::**

At first, it wasn’t a big deal.

Until her sister pointed it out.

Yongsun strips off her cardigan right as Yonghee closes the front door, catching a familiar scent that has her pulling the garment closer to her nose, inhaling. The unmistakable scent of Byulyi’s car freshener stuck to the surface, shoulders slumping at the exhale and laughing softly at her unnecessary anxiety since this morning.

Ever since Yonghee came back from England, they’ve both been trying their best to reintegrate themselves in the lives they made without each other just a train ride away. So, Yongsun’s understandably nervous about her older sister meeting her members in person for the first time.

They went bowling and she was worried about nothing, everyone getting along well even if Yongsun got to be the butt of jokes one too many times as her sister recalls childhood memories for _blackmail material_ , as Hyejin pointed it out.

“So,” Yonghee’s voice echoes from inside the fridge, popping back out with two water bottles and hands Yongsun one. She quirks an eyebrow at her sister, leaning against the counter. “, you and Byulyi.”

Yongsun drinks, confused. “Hmm?”

“You two seem close.”

She makes a noise between a scoff and a laugh, Yongsun giving her sister a _duh_ stare. “Well, yeah, we work together.”

Yonghee seems invested, however, squinting her eyes and pursing her lips, pretending to be thinking about something. “She doesn’t strike me as the clingy type.”

Yongsun laughs this time, moving to tie her hair and take care of the unwashed dishes from today’s breakfast. “That’s because she’s not.”

She can’t see her sister’s face from the sink but Yonghee’s shadow moves until she’s on the other side, wordlessly reaching over to dry the finished ones. “You’re kidding me.”

“What?”

Yonghee stops, taking in her younger sister’s confused face. “You think she’s not clingy?”

She doesn’t know why Yonghee’s pushing it, scrubbing hard at a bowl with stubbornly stuck rice. “Well, yeah. It’s Byul,” she says like that’s enough explanation. “She’s not like that. Doesn’t even like acting cute.”

Like a video playing behind her eyelids, she laughs softly at the memory of the rapper’s attempt at acting cute last week, wondering if she should recall it to Yonghee but realizes that there are too many inside jokes to divulge for that particular story.

They’re on the last plate—not much was used in the first place since Yongsun’s on a diet and her sister joins her for solidarity—Yongsun hoping that this weird conversation will end soon.

“She’s always on you, though,” Yonghee unnecessarily points out, wiping her hands down the front of Yongsun’s cute Squirtle apron. “One way or another.”

Exasperated at the conversation and tired from their long day, Yongsun mulls that one over.

_Was she?_

“No she wasn’t,” she didn’t mean for her voice to come out hushed, telling herself it’s weird to raise her voice with only the kitchen light illuminating their dark apartment.

Yonghee doesn’t say anything, which is somehow more nerve-wracking than her earlier enthusiasm on the topic. Before she can ask what’s up, her phone buzzes from her bag left on the stool, a text from Byulyi telling her she got home safely. Yonghee slips away to her room as she types a reply.

**::**

It’s similar to finally having the correct prescription glasses. She starts seeing and noticing things, finally understanding what Yonghee was hinting at.

Because Byulyi _is_ clingy.

Not overbearingly so, but subtle enough for her to even miss in the first place because of how casual it is yet undeniably _there_.

A hand on her thigh as Byulyi leans over her on the waiting room couch for a show, at the tips of her hair when Byulyi’s scrolling idly on her phone and Yongsun’s eating, a palm searing against the dip on her back while holding her microphone at the other.

It’s a bit endearing.

But also— 

Yongsun notices that, somehow, those almost seem exclusively reserved for her. She’s been keeping an eye on Byulyi interacting with the younger members for the past few minutes, goofing off backstage for their loser club behind-the-scenes.

She doesn’t hook her chin on Wheein’s shoulder as her arms snake around her waist or skims her thumb against the inside of Hyejin’s wrist.

Yongsun doesn’t know what it means.

**::**

Like her whole axis shifted, Yongsun finds herself actually looking forward to Byulyi’s little touches.

Leans a little bit when Byulyi offers her an elbow to latch on, makes herself firmer whenever Byulyi presses against her when someone makes her laugh and they’re in the same space, subtly making sure they sit together even if it’s just the two of them with other people and no seating arrangement is needed.

And with that comes the immense frustration when Byulyi _doesn’t_.

Yongsun doesn’t dare say that she’s disappointed. Because she’s not.

She’s not.

(Maybe repeating that inside her head will make it come true.)

Again, Yongsun doesn’t know what it means. Curses her sister inside her mind because this is her fault, really.

**::**

Her skin prickles at the knowing look Byulyi gives her when the door of the van opens.

They’re on their way to Busan for a long day, and Yongsun was at the company until 2 AM, went home to shower, before their managers picked her up—looking frustratingly rested with a full night’s sleep—at 5 AM.

Byulyi’s the last to get picked up, phone in hand, no doubt receiving a text prior from the younger members about Yongsun’s bad temper.

She snapped at them for eating junk food before they had a proper breakfast and dropping crumbs all over the van’s interior. They spoke in hushed voices after, silently piling at the back seat and leaving Yongsun to sit behind their managers.

Byulyi doesn’t sit next to her, plops down on the middle seat, reaching backward the maknaes for a palmful of chips, her chewing grating on Yongun’s sanity.

If she untangles her earbuds a little too roughly, hitting the window once, no one comments on it.

The day goes downhill from there.

Their schedules get pushed back for a few hours, the point of leaving Seoul early now moot, and Yongsun gets dragged for a supposedly quick interview that lasted two hours. All before she even had her morning coffee.

She clings to the cup of fresh brew like a lifeline, passed to her the moment she gets back to the holding room with the rest of the staff and her members, heels aching from walking around, sighing loudly when she took off her heels and pulled her feet up to tuck them under her thighs.

Yongsun was too busy mixing the creamer and sugar in, momentarily leaving her coffee on the table as she fetches a napkin from her bag when it happens.

Someone knocks _hard_ against her back, the force of it sending her forward, knee colliding painfully against the corner of the low table, and she watches as her coffee gets jostled, spilling as if in slow motion, and lands right on her heels.

“Shit,” a voice panics against her right ear, Yongsun belatedly realizing that it’s Byulyi, with her arms around Yongsun and temple pressed against her hair. “ _Shit_ , I’m sorry! I just—you seemed like you needed a hug and—I’ll clean it up, don’t worry!”

She plucks the napkin from Yongsun’s hands, quickly containing the spill before taking off like a headless chicken asking for wet wipes. Byulyi chances a look from where she’s kneeled on the floor, the people around them walking past and trying not to get involved.

Yongsun just has her brows furrowed, looking more pissed by the minute, and Byulyi gasps when she notices the angry blossom of a bruise right in the middle of her knee. There’s a tension in the air that feels almost desperate, Byulyi tentatively pressing an ice-cold water bottle against the bruise and like the fire of a starting pistol, Yongsun snaps.

“Don’t touch me!” Byulyi freezes, still kneeling on the floor, flinching when Yongsun slaps her hand away from her knee. “Just, don’t. You’re always doing this! Can’t read the room, always doing as you please—touching me like it’s _alright_ with me. It’s unprofessional and I don’t like it, so just _stop_.”

Something drops heavy against Byulyi’s chest, mildly wondering if the building somehow collapsed in on her because _wow_ , she didn’t know Yongsun was that repulsed by her.

She places the water bottle on the table, dusts her knees as she stands, and then she leaves.

**::**

She’s not counting.

After Busan, they get three days off because of a typhoon canceling most of their events. Yongsun went home, still fuming, bleeding until the next day. She didn’t know she was unconsciously glancing at their front door from where she’s cocooned on the couch until her sister pointed it out with an _are you expecting someone?_

She stomps back into her room because _no_ , she’s not waiting for Byulyi to come and patch things up between them.

Their last day off ends in a few hours and there’s still no sign of Byulyi.

No, Yongsun isn't counting the days.

But there’s a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that refreshes what she said to the younger woman the other day and realizes that _maybe_ she went too far this time.

**::**

To say that things are awkward is an understatement.

But Yongsun’s trying.

She swallows her pride and tries catching Byulyi’s eyes whenever they’re in the same room, trying not to show her disappointment whenever the younger woman manages to put half a room of distance between them.

The jokes she _knows_ will work don't pull any emotion, leaving Yongsun the only one forcing strained laughter and feeling incredibly ridiculous the longer this drags on.

_Maybe skinship?_

They're backstage, five minutes before they come on. Wheein and Hyejin skipped to the bathroom quickly, leaving Byulyi with her back turned to her, one hand relaxed around her microphone. Yongsun slips behind her, hoping that this’ll somehow work.

Her fingers slide against the smooth skin of Byulyi’s forearms, watching the younger woman’s tattoo move as her bicep twitches. She hasn’t noticed her yet and Yongsun can see a faint smile forming at the side of her face when Yongsun’s fingers slip against hers and then she turns around and— 

Byulyi’s smile drops so quickly as soon as she sees Yongsun, her hand slipping out of hers like water, shaking her head, and leaving Yongsun alone to stew in her embarrassment.

**::**

She’s not Yongsun if she gives up so easily.

After surreptitiously asking their managers for Byulyi’s schedule, she shows up at the studio with Byulyi’s favorite coffee with the tumbler she’s been eyeing for a few weeks now but hasn’t had the time to buy.

She knocks on the door even though Byulyi has headphones in, mixing something at the computer and twisting knobs expertly. The waft of coffee did the trick, the swivel chair squeaking a bit as she turns, fixing Yongsun an unreadable stare.

“Coffee?” She tries to smile, holding up the beverage like she’s waving a white flag.

Byul blows out a laugh, humorless and cold. “No thanks, wouldn’t want it to spill.”

There’s so much indifference in that statement that Yongsun takes a step back, feeling her chest tightening in an unfamiliar way. She wants to say something, something that sounds like a desperate _I’m sorry_ but Byulyi’s already turning her back again, and a producer slinks inside the room.

“Hey, Solar-ssi, need anything?”

She shakes her head, giving the coffee to him instead, and goes asks her sister if she’s up to meeting her for yoga just to have something to do.

Just to take her mind off of the haunting look on Byulyi’s face.

**::**

The way Byulyi acts like the past week hasn’t happened when they’re on stage is _frustrating_.

Casual touches, the glances, joking with the crowd, and turning to Yongsun like they didn’t spend the last few days _not talking_. Her anger simmers inside her as the show goes on, finally boiling over the moment they get off the stage.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” She grips Byulyi’s bicep, right over her infuriatingly distracting tattoo, hard enough that she can’t pull away. Byul’s got a panicked look on her face, caught off guard by the sudden explosion. “You act as if nothing happened and I’m _trying_ here. I’m— “

She shoots Byul a dirty look of indignation when the younger woman clamps a hand over her mouth, shutting her up. She licks a wet strip on the skin in retaliation, annoyed when it doesn’t pull a reaction from Byulyi.

“We’re not doing this here,” she says, asking their manager for the keys to their van. The implication is clear enough, both of them shedding their stage costume fast and quickly wrapping up their own stuff as the people around them enjoy a slow post-show routine.

Byulyi opens the door for her, Yongsun sitting behind the driver’s seat. She’s expecting Byulyi to sit behind her so she’s surprised when the younger woman sits facing her, knees knocking together in the cramped space.

Yongsun winces, knee still bruised up badly. Byulyi tracks the movement.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” she makes a vague gesture towards Yongsun’s knees.

It’s silent after that, Yongsun’s anger fizzling out the longer they stay alone together. Everything she’s been wanting to tell or say suddenly can’t reach the tip of her tongue, can’t form the words. Byul won’t say anything, though, so she forces herself.

“Are we really just—“

“I like you.” Yongsun feels her brain take a hard stop, train of thought skidding through the tracks, and _what?_ Of course Byulyi likes her. They’re _friends_. But there’s something underneath the nervous bob of her throat and the seeking look in her eyes that prompts Yongsun to _listen_ more. “I, fuck, this is the closest thing I can compare it to, so don’t laugh, okay?”

Yongsun stares at her, jumping when she realizes that Byulyi is waiting for an answer.

“Okay,” her voice is shaky, reaching one hand forward to hold Byulyi’s knee, an attempt at comfort. Byulyi just looks at her hand like it’s so foreign and unexpected, reaching gently to trace Yongsun’s knuckles.

Byulyi takes a deep breath, seemingly taking every air inside the van because Yongsun swears she can’t take enough air in the words that came out of the younger woman’s mouth.

“I like you. A lot. I annoy you because I want your attention. I touch you because you don’t push me away and it’s selfish and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable but you’re just always so pretty, always yourself, and it’s hard to contain everything inside my chest without me wanting to explode.” She’s looking at Yongsun with a pinched expression like she said too much but there’s no way to take it back. “It’s stupid, I know, but,” she shrugs, one hand carding through her hair and musses it up in an unfairly attractive way. “, it’s stupid but nothing makes sense when you like someone so much, it seems.”

Something in her words releases the dam inside Yongsun’s head. Suddenly, all she can think about is Byulyi _liking_ her. In a not friendly way.

She sees memories of them just existing together, things they normally do together like sleeping on one couch during showcases, cooking side by side, walking whoever’s dog when they stay too late at one’s apartment, texting each other even though they sit two feet apart because they can’t talk while getting their makeup done.

It’s just _them_.

But Yongsun can’t help but want it in a different context.

That they make fitting in on one couch work because they always want to be near each other, cooking together for date night during a day off, walking whoever’s dog with their hands intertwined and talking about maybe adopting one together, texting each other details they only know and having to endure not smiling too hard and giving in to the pull of each other so close but not touching.

This is the first time she’s thought of them like this and yet—

She wants it, aching, and wondering if maybe this is how Byulyi feels all the time.

_God_ , she doesn’t know how to handle feeling this much all the time.

Yongsun must’ve zoned out for an extraordinarily long time because when she snaps back to reality, it’s to Wheein opening the car door and looking at them with her eyebrows disappearing up to her hairline.

“We’ll just,” she points to the back seat, ushering Hyejin in first.

Byulyi clears her throat, smoothing her worried expression to nothing, fingertips slipping through Yongsun’s knuckles once, and then she’s sitting in the middle row again, pulling out her phone and plugging her earphones in.

It’s a silent ride home.

**::**

“What’s up?” Yonghee asks, freshly showered and waving her phone with the open message thread with her sister. Yongsun messaged her while they were still on the road, asking if her sister can stay with her on the couch.

“I don’t feel like being alone tonight,” is all Yongsun says in a small voice, offering the other end of her blanket and they settle in the living room like that.

They pick a TV series they’ve watched a few times already but the jokes still pull a few laughs from them. Yongsun just stays in her corner, biting her lip, mostly lost in thought.

Yonghee doesn’t push but when her phone vibrates on her lap with a message from Byulyi asking if Yongsun is alright after a fight they had, she relaxes. She types back _just asked me to stay with her for a bit, she seems to be thinking about something_.

Byulyi doesn’t reply to that and a few hours later, Yonghee presses a kiss against her sister’s head.

“Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

The living room stays silent, Yongsun’s face illuminated by the television as she comes up with an answer.

**::**

“Can we try?” is the first thing Yongsun greets her with when Byulyi opens her apartment door mid-afternoon the next day. They saw each other this morning, during their weekly company meeting to discuss their agendas and sponsorships, but Byulyi pointedly avoids the glances Yongsun keeps sending her way from the other side of the boardroom table.

She steps back inside her apartment, Yongsun stepping in, the sudden smell of her perfume this close derailing Byulyi’s thoughts for a moment.

“What?” She asks dumbly, moving to the side when Yongsun pushes at a shoulder to move past her, stopping at the space between the entryway and the living room.

“Being together,” Yongsun specifies with some kind of ease that shocks Byulyi. “Can we try that?”

Frustration suddenly hits Byulyi, looking up at the ceiling to control her tears because _god_ , she doesn’t know what’s happening.

“This isn’t,” she grits out, voice already pleading. “, this isn’t something that you can tell me you want to try and then leave if it’s not what you want.”

Because no matter how much her heart leaps at the notion of Yongsun wanting to try, Byulyi loves herself enough to know that she’s not okay with being an experimental phase for her straight girl best friend.

Even if having Yongsun in any way is all she wants.

Yongsun looks adorably confused and Byulyi can’t help her mind from thinking that _does she really think I won’t say no? That I’m too weak against her to resist? That—_

“But I do want it.”

She feels like she’s punched, dazed, unexpectedly swaying forward. “What?”

A pretty red blooms across Yongsun’s cheeks, avoiding Byulyi’s eyes. “It’s—after you told me, I can’t stop thinking about it,” she’s whispering, voice soft and incredibly embarrassed at having to admit it out loud. “I can’t stop thinking about it—about _kissing_ you—which is odd since I’ve never even thought of anyone as strongly as this so fast. And maybe hold your hand too.” Byulyi laughs at that last one, Yongsun smiling up tentatively at her. “I want a lot of things I don’t know and can’t name but I know it’s with _you_. I want it with you.”

Byulyi looks at her with this awed expression, silent for a few moments, before her lips pull up and she’s shaking her head like she can’t believe this is happening.

“Okay, we’re not having this conversation at my front door.”

They tumble inside, not knowing what to expect and feeling awkward until Byul wraps her fingers around Yongsun’s wrist, the contact making them both blush, pulling them both until they fall ungracefully on the couch. Byul sits sideways, one leg tucked under her as she leans back against an armrest, an arm draped over the back of the couch and her hands near Yongsun’s head, can hold her in just a moment’s notice.

There’s something about the space and that it’s just the two of them that make Yongsun’s skin tingle, feeling pleasantly warm and surrounded by the scent of Byulyi’s perfume and home.

Oh god, she’s blushing.

No one’s saying a word, the weight of the younger woman’s stare against the side of her head makes her antsy.

“We don’t really spend that much time in here,” she points out just to have something to say.

Byulyi hums, the ghost of her fingers against Yongsun’s hair drifting for a moment until it settles back down on the couch. “Your house has more food.” Finally, Byulyi looks away. “And I like being around you.”

The honesty makes Yongsun want to hit her, tell her she’s being greasy, but the words settle around her like a warm blanket.

Byulyi breaks the silence by clearing her throat, Yongsun jumping in her seat and standing up to look at the space around them to just have something to do with the restless energy thrumming inside of her.

The apartment is fit for just one person and another bedroom for when Byulyi’s sisters stay. It’s filled with color combinations that Byul likes—dark blue and splashes of orange or red— yet it lacks the numerous take out menus she personally puts up at Yongsun’s own fridge, the basket of new laundry Byulyi usually takes out from Yongsun’s dryer and carries for her to fold.

The place is undeniably Byulyi’s but Yongsun can’t help but feel like the younger woman has lived better at hers than her own.

There’s a bare wall at the other side of the living room that Byulyi told her will be full of polaroid pictures. The pictures are already stacked and ready to be hung up the cork wall installed months ago when Byulyi moved in, painted to blend with the rest of the apartment walls.

She holds up one stack, noticing that Byulyi’s already looking at her—when was she not?—and nods to the wall.

“Can I help?”

**::**

It keeps them busy, shoulders brushing that has them both biting their lip, feeling ridiculous at how the innocent touch seem to slowly up the tension between them.

Yongsun looks at the pictures, most are of the two of them, but that’s nothing new considering that they’re always paired off, Wheein and Hyejin always a packaged deal,

She can’t help but marvel at how good they look together and _fuck_ , was that always how Byul looked at her? She thumbs through the pictures, seeing the same soft smile on Byulyi from years ago to a time right before their fight.

She looks for hers, too, and _woah_. That’s how she looks at Byulyi?

It feels like a sunrise in her chest, bright and inevitable, feeling like she finally touched the ground, is finally stable.

“How long?” She asks, missing Byulyi’s earlier mumbling.

“I was thinking of it dangling down like—what?” Byul stops, taking in Yongsun’s confused expression.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Byulyi holding up the string. “I thought you were asking how long I want this to be?”

Yongsun laughs, full-bodied and helpless, Byul cracking up a smile of her own because Yong’s laughter is so infectious, and seeing her happy kinda makes her happy too.

“Oh my god,” Yongsun wheezes, wiping her eyes, tugging Byulyi until they’re both sitting on the floor, facing each other. She spreads the pictures in the space between them, making sure it’s facing the right way. “This is what I meant. How long have you liked me?” Byulyi looks stunned, not sure how to respond. Yongsun continues, looking down at the pictures. “I’m not imagining it, right? That you’re looking at me the same way all these years?”

It finally clicks, Byul looking down and shaking her head disbelievingly.

“I can’t believe my own photographs betray me like this.”

Yongsun moves, kneels with her palms pressed against Byulyi’s thighs as she leans forward.

“Well? Am I right?” She whispers, breath hot, and Byulyi swallows, making the bad decision of looking down at Yongsun’s lips, and then she’s _gone_.

“Yeah,” her voice is thick, Yongsun swaying forward, towards her. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Yongsun kisses her.

**::**

It’s everything and _better_ than she imagined.

But considering that Yongsun only thought of this in a short amount of time…

Byulyi kisses her like the years she spent thinking about this, making up for the time and Yongsun feels herself getting dragged on top of a lap, a broken sound punched from her lungs when Byulyi’s hands land on her ass and _grabs_.

“Oh my god,” the words are directed to the ceiling, Byulyi wasting no time and latching her lips to a pale neck.

“We should slow down,” she says right after sucking the thin skin, eyes growing darker as angry red blooms.

Yongsun nods, already feeling lightheaded with how her blood rushes south, her underwear sticking against her uncomfortably. “Yeah, we should.”

**::**

Taking it slowly ended up with them on the bed, Yongsun’s shirt already thrown over a shoulder, Byulyi’s fingers working their way on unclasping her bra, wet kisses are pressed against the red lines under her breasts where the wire of her bra dug in, a tongue soothing it hotly, and all she can do is hold on to firm shoulders and try not to shake too much.

There’s something desperate in the way Byulyi worships her skin, enough for Yongsun to place a palm against the center of Byulyi’s chest, pushing until the younger woman is hovering above her, looking pained.

“Hey,” Yongsun murmurs, cupping a cheek, still controlling her own breathing. “, you okay? What’s wrong?”

Byulyi looks attractively flushed, the buttons of her shirt open to reveal the first hickey Yongsun ever gave anyone, her hair fluffed up with volume from the times Yongsun held her there, but her eyes are glassy with unshed tears, bottom lip quivering as she takes in a breath.

“‘m sorry,” she mumbles, moving to straddling Yongsun instead of pressing on top of her. “We can stop if you want. I just—”

“Something’s bothering you.” Byulyi looks away, looking so close to tears. “Talk to me, please?”

Byulyi nods and Yongsun patiently waits, thumbs tracing the seam of her jeans, in awe with how Byulyi’s legs are spread to accommodate her hips, a pleasant weight on top of her.

“I wanted this— _want_ this for so long and I’m,” she shudders, trying hard not to fold in on herself as the emotions tumble out. “I’m just scared about when it ends.”

“But I won’t leave.” At Byulyi’s apprehensive stare, she flails her arms around the bedspread, making a point. “I’m serious, I won’t. I told you that I want this too, right? Not as long as you have but that doesn’t make me less serious with this. With us.”

She punctuates it by bending her body upwards, taking hold of a firm jaw, and kissing insistently. Yongsun slows down the kiss right after she licks hotly inside Byulyi’s mouth, the reverberating groan from the younger woman’s throat causing her to unconsciously grind upward, pressing soft kisses against even softer lips and settles back down to the pillows.

Byulyi leans down, forehead resting against hers, words tickling her skin when she speaks.

“Tell me if you want to stop.” A kiss against the corner of her mouth. “Okay?”

All Yongsun can do is nod.

**::**

“ _Oh my_ —fuck!” Yongsun squirms on top of the covers wildly, wanting to buck her hips upwards but a firm press turns her languid against the sheets, pliant to Byulyi’s assault at sucking a jutting hip bone and deft fingers twisting a slick nipple.

There’s an edge with how Byulyi moves her, rehearsed and fantasized, confidence oozing out of her as she grins up smugly at Yongsun’s face before flipping her over and pressing a palm against the top of her spine.

“On your knees,” she feels a smile pressed against her spine when she shudders, obeying. “Good, just like that.”

The kisses trail down, stopping against the edge of her underwear and it’s embarrassing how it sticks against her when Byulyi pulls it down, can’t do anything but whine and clench her fists against sheets that smell like Byulyi’s skin.

There’s a moment of stillness, Yongsun wanting to move away with how she feels a breath against her and _knows_ that Byulyi’s staring. Before she can wriggle away, two hands grips at her hips, pulls her backward and— 

_“Ah!_ ”

Hot, slick tongue laps up the wetness that dripped down her thighs, up up _up_ until Byulyi’s tasting from the source, the obscene sound of slick further burning through Yongsun in humiliation, wetness trickling out of her steadily because, somehow, getting watched and the embarrassment of it all is doing it for her.

A moan echoes, she can’t pinpoint whose when Byulyi traces down and sucks her clit, rough and no remorse with how wildly it’s pulling reactions out of Yongsun.

Two fingers make its way up the inside of her thighs, pressing against her entrance.

“May I?”

Yongsun sobs an affirmative, moving her hips backward and keening when a fingertip catches against her.

The stretch is delicious, finger thicker than her own, and reaching farther. She’s probably drooling a puddle underneath her mouth but that’s the least of her worries when another finger presses insistently against her hole.

“Yes, another. Please, I need it—I, _god!_ ”

Like fire poured into her, Yongsun feels her legs giving up, moaning when an arm snakes around her waist and holds her up. Two fingers press hotly, seeking, and when they find what they’re looking for, Byulyi moans too, like she’s getting off of the visual of Yongsun falling apart with her two fingers curling _oh so perfectly_ against the spot inside of her that turns her bones into liquid.

She’s screaming, voice hoarse, still shaking from the intensity of her orgasm why Byulyi pulls her up, two stiff nipples pressing against her back as gravity pulls her down the two fingers buried inside of her and on top of a firm lap.

“Again.”

**::**

They’re standing side by side in the kitchen. Byulyi’s got her hair down, wearing a thin tank top and a soft sleep short. Yongsun only had the energy to pull Byulyi’s discarded button-down from earlier and nothing else, whining when the younger woman insisted they cook even if it’s a few hours past dinner time.

Maybe it’s because of the life-changing sex she just had but Yongsun presses a kiss against Byulyi’s cheeks, filled with the urge to be honest.

“I’ve thought about this,” she whispers, mincing garlic. “Being domestic with you. Being your girlfriend.”

The words seem to stop Byulyi from peeling a potato, dropping everything until she’s got Yongsun pressed against the stove.

“Girlfriend?” her eyes are shining with so much hope that Yongsun doesn’t want to ever go away; full of love and happiness.

“I’d like to be, yeah,” is all she can say before lips are on hers again.

They nix the idea of cooking, just opting to order when they finish another bout of sex around 2 in the morning.

When Byulyi wakes up, far too sore but too happy to complain, she almost cries.

Yongsun stayed.

**::**

**the end.**

**::**

oh god i missed writing moonsun TT

thank you for my friend for this!

all mistakes are mineeee

follow me on twitter: rexwrites, coz why not?

stay safe, thank you and have a good one!

**::**

**Author's Note:**

> **follow the link/s on my[ twitter ](https://twitter.com/rexwrites/status/1341058168483315712?s=20)for updates and if you want to be my friend! :D **


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